


Tell Me I'm Making A Mistake

by burlesonspride



Category: Glee, Quinntana - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Sexual Content, mentions of Brittana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:04:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4300608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burlesonspride/pseuds/burlesonspride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the last two years, Santana and Quinn have found various reasons to find comfort in each others arms: stress, alcohol, just because, and more. It's been easy that way. No strings. But when Santana shows up in New Haven with a ring in her pocket that isn't meant for Quinn and a question on her lips that is, Quinn must make a decision. Is she ready to stop finding random blame for their intimate encounters? Can she let go of her fears? Or will she let her best friend walk away to begin a new life? One that does not include her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s black; about two inches by two inches. There’s a thin silver band that warps around and offsets the solid shade. Inside there’s a white silk lining. Imprinted on the material is a name, stitched with gold thread. Tucked tightly away in a pillowed slit rests a platinum band. And atop that band is a diamond. Modest in size but cut with such precision that when even a single beam of light hits the stone it splinters off in every direction, the new beams bathed in vibrant colors and demanding nothing less than to be noticed.

Leaning back in the chair, I tent my leg against my chest and seek out the sturdy perch it allows for my tired head. The events of last night flood my mind and leave a smile on my lips but deposit a familiar ache in my chest. I reach for my mug of hot coffee and take an easy sip. Through the thin bands of steam coming off the fresh brewed liquid, I watch the box as if it’s going to grow legs and walk off. It’s an insane notion but a part of me is waiting for it to walk itself to its rightful owner and take the woman who bought it in tow.      

My head shifts at the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. Shit. I was really hoping to avoid the awkward dance we’ve perfected over the last two years. I haven’t even had a full cup of coffee yet. My eyes dart to the illuminated clock on the stove. It’s 7:24 in the morning, what the fuck is she even doing up? It’s like a scene from the walking dead when she’s up before 9 am; fun for no one.

A relieved sigh escapes me when Michelle rounds the corner slipping her running shoes on.

“Did you know that 30 is the highest my TV will go in volume?”

I stare up at her blankly and watch as she moves through the kitchen and retrieves a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

“Yeah” she nods animatedly, carrying on as if we’re both energetically engaged in the conversation, “30. I know right, you would think 30 would be loud enough to drown out anything. But, as I learned last night, it fails to drown out the word Santana. Or, should I say the name.”

I can feel my cheeks flushing and the warmth crawls across my skin in all directions. Groaning, I bury my head in the crook of my arm and shake off her continued speech.  

“But my roommate Quinn, she hasn’t brought anyone home in months. She’s practically a nun by now. But the sounds coming from her bedroom… I tell you what, someone was having the sex of MY dreams. So I said to myself ‘Chelle, you must be hearing things, because that can’t be Quinn.’ But the oddest thing happened, when the moans grew into screams, they sounded just like you when you’re yelling at me about wet towels on the bathroom floor.”

She twists off the bottle cap and takes a big gulp, looking at me playfully. I lift my head only enough that my eyes can be seen and I chuckle softly, trying to rein in my embarrassment.

“Oh yeah?”

It’s all I can manage. I just want to crawl under the table and pretend this conversation isn’t happening.

“Yeah, it was a dead ringer for your screeching.”

“I do not screech”

“If you say so. Hey, do you have class today?”

“Mmm” I hum through another sip, “Yeah, I’ve got a class at 9, why?”

“Would you mind dropping off my course evaluations? Brian wants to grab lunch but I’ve got to have those in by noon.”

“’Chelle, you’ve had a month to do those.”

“I know, I know. Could you just please? I’ll clean the living room tonight. I swear, please…?”

“I’ve heard that before…”

“Please, please, please? Living room AND I’ll make those banana pancakes you like.”

“Fine, just leave them on the table. I’ll take care of it. BUT, there better be a plate full of pancakes waiting for me on the coffee table in our clean living room tomorrow morning.”

She lets out a squeal that reminds me of the early hour and the slight ache at the base of my skull. I watch her jog over to her backpack and pull out a manila envelope. As she tosses it on the table I hear the screech of her shoes on the tile as she stops dead in her tracks.

“Quinn…” her voice just above a whisper, “do you have something you want to tell me?”

I follow her line of sight and settle on the ring that glints from within the open box across from me. Swallowing hard, I push back all the confused feelings I have that surround the piece of jewelry.

“It’s not mine”

I fill the silence that hangs between us with a long gulp of coffee.  I can see her trying to process my statement. How it fits in with the woman who is still lying sound asleep in my bed at the end of the hallway. She studies my face, searching for whatever emotions I’m hiding.

She eases closer, “Do you wanna talk?”

A shake of my head is all I’m willing to give right now.

“Alright. Well, you know I’m here for you.”

I muster a “Thanks” and a lazy smile. “You better get going. Have a good run.”

She takes another step and stops beside me. Her hand settles on the crown of my head and she lightly pulls, tilting my head until I’m looking up at her. Her expression is one of worry but if I look too hard I see pity and that’s the last thing I need from her.

“I’ll be fine. Go. Get outta here.”

There’s a kiss pressed to my hair and then she’s gone. I hear the door thud shut behind her and the footfalls as she makes her way down the stairs. Then it’s silent again.

I finish my coffee, watching the minutes tick away, knowing that sooner rather than later I would have to approach the events of the past 12 hours. When I swallow the last few drops, I wash my mug out and make my way back to my bedroom, pausing for a deep breath before pushing through the door.

The lump in the comforter rises and falls ever so slightly; the only tell-tale sign that a body fills the space instead of the usual pile of pillows I curl up to. My eyes fall on a loose curl of dark hair that has snuck out of its sanctuary. It’s a stark contrast to the white pillowcase it rests on.

A flash from last night floods my mind. How her body hovered over mine, the scent of cedar and fresh cut flowers. Both scents unassuming alone, but together, on her skin, intoxicating. She smelt like spring. The security I felt in her arms. The dark curtain of loose curls, shielding us away from the world that exists outside the stolen moments we share.

There’s a groan from beneath the blanket and I hold my breath. I wait, silent and still, as she settles back against the mattress. When I’m sure she’s not awake, I pad across the carpet as softly as possible and head to the bathroom. Carefully, I shut the door. The person that greets me in the mirror is tired, but satisfied. There’s a hint of hurt in her eyes, a sign that she knows what’s coming next. I run my hands though my hair and remind myself to breathe. With one last glance I reach for the shower and go about starting my day.

Under the stream of warm water, my tired muscles wake. I can feel the tension my body has held through sleep begin to slip away and for the first time this morning a genuine smile tugs at my lips. I don’t allow myself to dwell on the thoughts of what comes next. The pleasurable ache between my thighs reminds me that there are sweeter thoughts to be had.

With a turn, I feel the cool tiles of the shower wall rest against my back. The stark difference in temperature sends a shiver crawling across every inch of me. I reach for the facet and relish the feeling of the water beating down on me, each wave becoming hotter than the last. When the heat reaches the point right before becoming unbearable, my hand falls from the chrome knob. My teeth grit under the intensity and I allow myself to drown in the seduction that lies between pleasure and pain.    

Last night floods my mind and my clit starts throbbing. Each thought sends the drumming into a more frantic pace from the last. Usually it’s Santana who is impatient, but last night, it was me. I needed to feel her. I needed to taste her. I needed to make her forget the reason she showed up at my door at eleven o’clock last night.

My hand slides down my stomach, moving as fluidly as the rivulets of water that cascade with gravity. The moment my fingers reach my clit, a sigh falls from my lips. My fingers move in circles against the swollen bundle of nerves. I bite my lip in order to stifle the sounds that are echoing off the shower wall. When my eyes fall closed, my mind travels back.

_~*~_

_I can’t kiss her deep enough, hard enough. She keeps pushing back, enjoying the fight for the upper hand. I shove her up against the wall just outside my bedroom and pin her there. I thrust a leg between her thighs and lean hard against her. I can feel her heat. She groans deeply when I push against her clit._

_“You’re such a bitch, Santana”_

_I feel her hands fist in my hair and pull. It’s enough to make me give, almost._

_“You’re a selfish cunt, Quinn”_

_I bite down on her earlobe until she gasps._

_“This cunt’s about to fuck you until you feel otherwise. Now shut the fuck up and get in the room.”_

_She snaps her teeth at me, shifting to step into the room and I take her mouth against mine, kissing her into silence. Without breaking the kiss, my palms flatten against her shoulders and I push back, slamming her further into my bedroom wall. The dresser beside us rattles and I catch her surprised scream, stealing it away in a single breath. I don’t know where this this fierceness has come from, but tonight I’m going to own it. I’m mad at all the things that have led to that fucking ring being on my table. I also miss her. Another reason, I’m just because I’m fucking horny. But I do acknowledge that there’s an ache, deep in my chest that says this is out of pure desperation. I’m losing her. But if she wants to play this game, goddammit, we’ll fucking play._

_My words have always failed me. Santana can speak circles around anyone and come out with exactly what she wants. But not me. Words have never been my savior, but my actions are. Santana and I have a much deeper connection that extends well past just sex, but when my words fall short, nothing sends her the message that she is mine and I am hers like the way I can strip her bare, physically and emotionally, and make her body tremble._

_“You’re mine” I snap._

_It’s not until the words fall from my lips that I even realize what I said._

_When I pull away, her hands shoot up, ready to take their aim. I match her pace and grab her wrists, pulling them down and pinning them to her sides._

_I lean forward and nip at her earlobe again, “Stand still and be a good girl.”_

_She pushes against my with her chest in defiance, a dark laugh playing on her lips, but I push right back, and again, the dresser rattles, this time a perfume bottle topples over. I take it one step further and sink my teeth into the soft skin on the side of her neck. A quick bite before I suck the skin, earning a guttural groan from the woman pinned against me. I feel her body shake when I release and run my tongue along the reddening mark._

_“Behave”_

_Her only response is a nod of her head and exquisite surrender. There are few things in the world that drive me wilder than the knowledge that she has allowed me to have this power over her. For someone who was putting up quite the fight a moment ago, she’s suddenly very ready to play by the rules._

_I lower to my knees, slowly and deliberately. Our eyes lock, and I watch her watching me with beautiful anticipation._

_This woman is breaking my resolve to just fuck her._

_I carefully release my hold on her hands, she’s been known to trick me once or twice, but when she doesn’t move I know that I’ve got her. I reach down and cup the back of her heels, pulling them off one foot at a time. When she steps down out of the last one, warmth fills my chest seeing her height difference change. With this simple task, she becomes less intimidating. She allows her guard to fall. It’s sexy, yet achingly innocent and beautiful._

_Her hips are squared in my sight. I take a moment to breathe. Suddenly all the anger drains from me, and I just want to hold her._

_My hands grip her hips and I pull her to me in a brief moment of longing. I rest the side of my head against her stomach and wrap my arms the rest of the way around her hips. She runs her hands gently through my hair, a stark difference from moments before. There is a pain in my chest that I’ve always been too afraid to acknowledge. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t walk away. I don’t know what this is or how we got here, but I know that I can’t imagine a life without you in it. I don’t ever want to know what it feels like to not have you._

_I take a deep breath and push the sinking feeling away. That can come later._

_Pushing the hem of her shirt up, my lips find the soft skin on her abdomen. My fingers make work of the button and zipper on her jeans while I leave lazy kisses in spots that make her shudder. She works with me, rocking her hips to allow the denim to fall easily with my help. One foot and then the other, I rid her of the material._

_My fingers make quick work of the small panties she wears. I can smell her. Fuck, I want her on my tongue. Without even a word from me, she hooks her leg over my shoulder and I know in that moment she knows that I want it as badly as she does. I tease only for a moment, running the pad of my thumb through her folds, feeling just how much she wants me. She sighs and glides her hips back and forth, coating my fingers before they even fully touch her._

_My hand pulls away and I suck my fingers clean, a prelude to the sweet desire that waits for me. With a quick adjustment on my knees, I lean forward and take her. The feel of her on my tongue sends shock waves through me. There hasn’t been a time that it doesn’t._

~*~

My hand grips the wall, sliding this way and that under the water. The faster my fingers work at my aching clit, the closer I get to unraveling. The water no longer scalds my skin, but instead adds a delicious new element to the euphoria I’m chasing. I hike my leg up on the side of the tub and my fingers slide deep within me. With a flick, they find their destination and I rock back and forth, imagining the hand that touches me is not my own. I close my eyes and can picture dark eyes watching me, a satisfied smirk on her pink lips when I begin to shake.

_“Who do you belong to”,_  echoes through my mind.

“You” I whisper, over and over until I bite down on my lip, my toes curl and my free hand flails, looking for anything to hold on to. My legs tremble as the hand between my thighs drops, coated in my release.

I lean back against the wall once more, the heat of the water pushing its way back to the front of my mind. I reach for the faucet and with a quick flick of my wrist, the water becomes icy. It’s a welcome feeling on my pink skin.

I take a moment to compose myself, then go about finishing my shower. When I step out a few minutes later, I wrap myself in my robe and decide that it’s now or never; time to face everything.

When I step out of the bathroom, my eyes immediately fall on the bed. It’s made up, the sleeping body that once laid there is nowhere in sight. I can feel the panic set in. I thought I would have more time. Please, please let her be in the kitchen.

I thought I would have more time, dammit.

Making my way down the hallway, I note the silence of the apartment and it does nothing for my rapidly beating heart. Rounding the corner, my resolve drops. The open space between the kitchen and living room yields a stark emptiness.

She’s gone.

I thought I would have more time.    

My eyes comb over the kitchen table; the box is gone.

I run to the window in the living room and look out over the parking lot. I scan every car, looking for hers, maybe she just left. But I come up as empty as the recently vacated spot two cars down from my own.

Left alone, the only sounds that surround me are the echoes that taunt me from last night.

~*~

_“Tell me I’m making a mistake…” she whispers._

_The way her breath dances across my bare shoulder as she snuggles tightly against me causes goosebumps._

_I swallow hard, knowing my words are going to hurt us both._

_“I can’t do that”_

_I’m thankful that it’s dark and that I’m facing away from her, otherwise she’d see the free falling tears that are staining my pillow case._

_She begs me, a cracking in her voice, “Give me something, Quinn. Anything…”_

_She’s asking me for a reason. She’s asking me to tell her to throw the life she knows out the window. She’s asking for me._

_But I’m too terrified that I’ll let her down, that I’ll hurt her. Santana deserves a life where she can have someone love her with everything. I don’t trust myself to be that person._

_I wipe at my eyes, pretending to yawn, “I’m tired. Let’s just go to sleep. Mmkay?”_

_The hand that she has wrapped around my naked waist loosens and terror rips through me, yet I’m unable to speak, to give her what she’s asking. So when my words fail me, my actions don’t. I lace our fingers together and pull her hold tightly against me. She responds with a feather kiss against my shoulder and settles behind me, never speaking another word._

_After a few minutes, I hear her breath even out and I know she’s asleep. I lay with my thoughts and my fears, trying to sort them, hoping I find an answer in the details. Soon my eyes grow heavy and I allow myself to simply enjoy the feeling of being in her arms again._

_Tomorrow morning._

_I’ll have time tomorrow morning._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the last two years, Santana and Quinn have found various reasons to find comfort in each others arms: stress, alcohol, just because and more. It's been easy that way. No strings. But when Santana shows up in New Haven with a ring in her pocket that isn't meant for Quinn and a question on her lips that is, Quinn must make a decision. Is she ready to stop finding random blame for their intimate encounters? Can she let go of her fears? Or will she let her best friend walk away to begin a new life? One that does not include her?

She makes her way to me, a soft smile on her lips. She doesn’t say a word as her hand reaches out and taps me on the shoulder.

I giggle at the oddity of the moment, “What are you doing?”

She taps my shoulder again, a continuous drumming.

“Miss Fabray…”

I roll my shoulder away, still trying to figure out why Santana is acting so strange.

“Miss Fabray…”

Her voice is louder this time, lower. It almost rumbles.

“Miss Fabray, wake up!”

I jump with a start. My vision is blurry and my heart is racing. As my eyes focus, it’s not Santana’s face that I see, but a large blackboard filled with renderings of molecules and various definitions. I turn, my neck burning with a pain that causes me to reach for the aching muscles. There, standing beside me is my Bio-Chem professor.

“As much as I appreciate your attempt at gathering the necessary information needed for the exam through osmosis, I must ask that you try and do it the old fashioned way. The mumbling seems to be distracting to the other students lucky enough to be seated beside you.”

When he turns to make his way back down to the podium, I can hear the class snickering around me at his tactics; asshole.

My body is shaking from the sudden wakeup. I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves. Glancing over at the clock mounted over the door, I note that there are only about fifteen more minutes left in the class.

Fuck it; I’ve already missed too much. Sliding out of my seat I slam my book closed and smirk at the irritated look I earn from my professor. He stays quiet, watching me descend the stairs. When I reach the bottom, I turn to him, “I’ll spare you any further distraction.”

I don’t have the patience or willpower to be respectful at this point. I’m tired, I’m upset, and I’m just done with this day.

The walk down the quiet hallway is short and when I push through the outer doors, I squint at the harsh sunlight that hits my eyes. I push myself harder through the quad, wanting to get as far away from the current moment as possible. With a quick beep from the alarm, the doors unlock and I slide into my car. Under the shade of the trees that line the parking lot, I drop my head against the steering wheel and just cry.

I cry because I’m exhausted. I cry because my heart is aching to the point that I grip my chest in search of relief. I cry because I knew this situation would happen someday. I cry because I knew falling in love with her would only end in our hearts breaking. I cry because even knowing that, I know I would still fall in love with her over and over until the end of time; falling for her feels as natural as breathing. Most of all I cry because she gave me the opportunity to tell her to choose me, and I let that slip through my fingers because I was afraid.

When the hiccups start and the tears slow, I lean back and wipe at my eyes.

Deep breath; in and out.

Clam down.

I slip the key into the ignition and the cool air from the air conditioner kisses the wet streaks on my cheeks.

It’ll be okay.

I’ll be okay.

~*~

There are about seventeen steps from my front door to my couch. Every one of them finds me fighting the urge to glance over at the kitchen table. The box isn’t there; it’s as if last night never happened. Maybe it’s best that I tell myself it didn’t. Falling face first against the plush cushions, I reach for a pillow and wrap myself around it.

When I reach down and slip my phone from my pocket, I see that it’s 3:24. That gives me about an hour and a half before Michelle gets home and undoubtedly fills me in with the daily drama her boyfriend tends to bring. A hundred different things that need to be done flood my mind, but I’ve got no energy to even care. I just want to sleep.

~*~

_At this point I know more about the real housewives of Atlanta than I do the modern impressionist movement. Life would be a lot simpler if I had to write a paper on the life of NeNe Leakes rather than on the life and works of Paul Strand._

_The glow of the laptop beside me just serves as a reminder of the blank word document that sits open, mocking me. I haven’t even come up with a title yet. This is ridiculous. I’m never going to finish this._

_And why is it that every time I watch this stupid show they’re eating? Of course my stomach would start growling now._

_Glancing over my shoulder, I run down the list of food we have in the apartment. It’s a short list consisting of hot pockets, wine, and week old bagels._

_We really need to go grocery shopping._

_Pizza. I want pizza._

_I close the laptop—it’s not like the paper is going anywhere—and grab my keys. A brief stop to slip my shoes on and I’m out the door. I can hear some guys from upstairs catcalling off their balcony when I reach the breezeway. It’s only Thursday, you think they could hold off the douchery for another night._

_“Hey, thing one and thing two, never gonna happen. Take your beer guts back inside and give my regards to Linda Left and Rita Right.”_

_Just as I hear her, she comes colliding into me from around the corner._

_“Shit! You scared me.”_

_Her expression makes me laugh; all dazed, a playful smile, and a nervous giggle._

_“How about you not come barreling around corners and crashing into people.”_

_“Meh” she shrugs, “Trying to make a clean getaway from the village idiots.”_

_Now that my minds settled on the fact that Santana is standing in front of me, in New Haven, instead of her being in Lima, I have to ask, “What are you doing here?” Before she answers, my mind flies into overdrive and words just spill from my mouth, “Are you sick? Are you alright? Hurt? I thought you were going to be in Lima right now.” My eyes scan her body, looking for any sign of… whatever. But she just stares at me as if she’s finding my sudden panic amusing._

_“You done?”_

_An exasperated sigh deflates the tension in my body and I glare at her. Why Am I such a mess when it comes to her?_

_I nod, biting my lip in frustration._

_“I need to talk to you”_

_Her tone is even, which reveals nothing as to the nature of the talk she wants to have._

_“Okay…”_

_I pause, waiting to see if she’ll fill in the empty space with more explanation, but her eyes fall from mine and she buries her hands deep in the pockets of the zip up jacket she’s wearing._

_“Can you talk and eat?”_

_She eyes me with a confused expression until finally nodding, “Yeah.”_

_I link my arm in hers and pull her with me toward the parking lot._

_I stop before stepping off the curb, “On second thought, can we take your car? I know the second I leave someone will steal my spot and it took me 10 minutes driving around this afternoon to get it.”_

_“Sure, come on, I’m parked across the street.”_

_We walk together in silence until she mumbles, “Lazy.”_

_I scoff and kick my leg back, popping her in the butt._

_“Shut up.”_

_She draws her arm in closer and I lay my head on her shoulder as we make our way to her car. It’s a brief moment, but it feels so good to have her near me again. It’s been three months since I’ve see her. Last time I left her, it was with a stolen kiss on the stoop of her apartment building in the city after a night of too many martinis. At least that’s what we blamed the night on anyway. I don’t truly think either of us was drunk enough to not know exactly what we were doing to one another._

_Over the last year and a half, we’ve managed to build quite the blame bank: alcohol, stress, too tired to care, the hot girl who turned a head in the bar, our competitive natures. I think we even blamed ice cream one night, because our fight over whose tasted better ended with two very naked, very sweet tasting, but very sticky, bodies._

_We both know this, whatever it is, is more than bad decisions we can sweep away with an excuse. But neither of us is willing to admit that. There have been eight times in the last year and a half where she or I have whispered I love you. It’s never forced. It’s natural. I mean it when I say it. She means it when she says it. And I think that’s what scares us; knowing that we share this very real, very deep feeling, but that neither of us seems willing to give up something for the other._

_“So where am I driving you Miss Daisy?”_

_Her question pulls me from my thoughts and saves me from over analyzing our relationship. Letting go of her arm, I walk around the front of the car and wait for her to unlock the door._

_“Yorkside”_

_With a soft click, the lock releases and we slip into the car. She slides the key in the ignition and glances over at me, shrugging._

_“And I’m supposed to know what and where that is?”_

_“Remind me again why we’re friends?”_

_“Because I’m the only one who’ll take your shit and you like my ass”_

_A smirk dances across my lips and I find myself fighting to not ogle her toned legs under the tight material of her jeans and she presses down on the gas. God, those pants she’s wearing… stop it, Quinn._

_“Just drive”_

_“Uh, still don’t know where I’m going…”_

_“Straight, then a left at the light”_

_“Thank you”_

_“You are so difficult sometimes”_

_“I’m difficult” she playfully scoffs, “you’re a piece of work. I come all the way out to J. Crew central, say I need to talk to you, and you ask if I can talk over food.”_

_She’s laughing, but she has a point. I still haven’t asked what’s going on._

_“So what do you want to talk about?”_

_“How’s school?”_

_“Santana, you didn’t come here to ask me about school. What’s up?”_

_“We’ll talk about it later. Tell me how school’s going? Sleep with any new professors?”_

_“Santana!”_

_She laughs beside me, flipping her blinker on, “I’m kidding. I know, you said that was the first and last time.”_

_“Low blow”_

_“I’m kidding”_

_She turns in her seat to look at me. The red glow of the traffic light makes her eyes seem as if they are made of fire, burning with a deep crimson hue. It’s a little unnerving how quickly my body aches for her._

_“But really, how’s school. Almost finals, right?”_

_“Yes, but tell me what’s going on”_

_When the light turns green, she falls quiet, turning down the lit street._

_“It’s almost 11 Q, is this place gonna be open? This town looks kind of dead right now”_

_Reaching over, my hand settles on her shoulder, “Hey, talk to me.”_

_“I will. I just want to be able to look at you when I do”_

_There it is; the sudden drop in my stomach. Santana is the type of person to talk about anything, anywhere. It’s when she puts restrictions on her conversations that people know something is going on with her. Suddenly I’m not so hungry._

_When my hand falls away, she reaches over and settles her hand on my thigh._

_“Hey, no one’s dead. No one’s sick. I just need my best friend. Okay?”_

_I look at her, combing her features a thousand times over, looking for whatever it is she’s holding on to. But I can’t see anything. She’s wearing the best poker face I’ve ever seen on her before. I simply nod, pacifying her for the moment. But I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, trying my best to keep my worry at bay.  It can’t be bad. If it was bad, she would have told me right away._

_A right turn and two blocks more find us seated in a booth overlooking the soft storefront lights that blanket the quiet street. A large pepperoni pizza sits between us, half eaten, along with two empty glasses of wine. We’ve managed to talk about school, work, Berry’s new live-in boy toy, Michelle and her inability to keep a clean house, and Kurt’s latest audition failures. She tells me about the new neighbors she just got above her loft and how they’ve set the building on fire twice. It’s then she says she’s decided that she is going to move at the end of this lease. When I ask her where, she becomes less forthcoming with her answer and again, I wonder what she’s keeping from me._

_I take a deep breath and drain the last drops of wine from my glass, “So, spill…”_

_She shifts in her seat and leans forward, here we go._

_“Ladies…”_

_I glare up at the guy standing over us. He almost flinches when he sees my expression._

_“Sorry” he stumbles, “I uh, it’s nearly closing time, so I wanted to give you the option of last call on the wine…”_

_“None for me” Santana chimes, “Driver.”_

_His eyes dart to me and I just roll my head back, “Check. Please.”_

_The guy eyes me as he heads off, a bit more timid than when he walked up._

_Santana sits back, crossing her arms over her chest, “Grouch.”_

_“I’m losing patience. You show up at my apartment after months of hardly talking. You tell me you need to talk to me about something, but won’t tell me what. All this small talk is nice, but I don’t care about Rachel or Kurt or Michelle or how my professors are total dicks this semester or how working at the bookstore is causing me to hate the human race as a whole. I mean, come on, dammit Santana. Just tell me what’s going on.”_

_Once all that comes spilling out, she looks a little miffed at me. Shit. I didn’t mean to come across like that._

_“San, I’m sorry. I jus-”_

_“No…don’t do that. You’re mad, I get it.”_

_I huff in frustration. Both from her lack of forthcoming information and for my snapping at her._

_“Quinn, I just really think right now is not the best-”_

_“Santana…”_

_“I’m going to ask Brit to marry me next week.”_

_That… was not what I was expecting._

_My heart beat drums wildly in my ears, which is an odd feeling considering it feels like it’s stopped beating altogether. I try and swallow, but my throat doesn’t move. My mouth is dry and my hands are sweaty. I can see the outline of Santana across from me, but all the details of her face are blurred; like she’s just some half-realized memory. I can’t find any words. When I feel a stinging behind my eyes, I shake myself from the stupor. No. I will not cry. This is just something I need to process. This is not a big deal. I just… I just, I need to go. I need to leave._

_When I push up from the table I feel her hand wrap around my wrist gently. She says something, but I can’t make it out. Reaching into my purse with my free hand, I pull out two twenties and toss them on the table. My eyes focus on the front door and I mumble about needing to go. I pull from her grasp and begin walking away. I pass the waiter on my way out, stumbling to apologize and thank him. It’s just a mess of words really._

_When I push through the door, the cool late October wind whips around me and I feel like I can breathe again. After a deep breath, I turn and start walking. Behind me the bell atop the door chimes and I hear Santana stumble out, calling after me to stop._

_“Quinn, what are you doing?”_

_“Walking home”_

_“Stop it. Come on, my car is right here. It’s fucking freezing right now and it’s midnight. Get in the car.”_

_I push forward, although my steps have slowed. I can feel her pull. It’s always there. And I didn’t bring my coat. And, it’s not a bad neighborhood, but still, she has a point, it is the middle of the night._

_I turn around and make my way to the car. I walk right past her without a word and grab the door handle. When it retracts back with a loud thud, I huff._

_She presses the remote in her hand and I hear it unlock. I whip the door open and drop in the seat, slamming the door closed behind me. I don’t really know why I’m angry, but I just am. I just want to go home. I feel like I’m on a goddamn roller coaster right now. I want to cry. No, I want to scream. Or do I want to throw something? I want to hold Santana. But I also want to never look at her again. This is all too much._

_What the fuck is wrong with me?_

_When she slides in beside me, she remains quiet. The next few minutes are filled with nothing more than the road noise and the occasional blinker. My hands sit squarely in my lap, holding tightly to one another. I sit, trying to get a hold of my emotions as they erupt all over the place. I am a fucking mess and I can’t seem to reign myself in. I catch my reflection in the window at one point and my face is stone. At least I have that going for me. I feel like I’m cracking at the seams, but outwardly I seem to be intact._

_She pulls up in front of my building and shifts into park. The car sits idle a minute more before either of us says anything. I can tell she’s angry and a little upset about how the night has ended. I catch her chewing on her bottom lip, something she does when she’s hurt by something. This only causes my heart to ache more and my anger with myself and the whole situation grow. I’m supposed to be her best friend, not someone who throws her aside when she says or does something that inadvertently hurts me. She came to me looking for support and in the first minute of her confession I did nothing but brush her aside and tend to my own wounds._

_“Where are you staying tonight?”_

_It’s not my best moment, but I couldn’t take the silence anymore._

_“I’ll find a hotel someplace”_

_She doesn’t even look at me. Her hands are still on the wheel and her face is unflinching as she watches the flickering light in the carport ahead of us._

_“Come upstairs”_

_“Quinn, you’ve made it very clear that you don’t want much to do with me right now…”_

_“Look, I’m sorry. Come on, you always stay here.”_

_“Right now’s probably not a good time”_

_I shift in my seat, getting caught as the seat belt locks. I grab at the buckle until it unclasps and I can face her fully._

_“Santana, please. I’m sorry for how I reacted. Just come upstairs.”_

_I watch her features soften, although she never looks at me._

_“You’re tired. And I’m an asshole. Don’t go. I’ll sleep on the couch.”_

_She sits still for another minute, and I wait, holding my breath, hoping that my selfish stupidity hasn’t damaged our relationship._

_“How much is the overnight parking garage?”_

_I sigh with relief when she speaks._

_“Here” I say, frantically rummaging through my purse. I pull out my student ID and clip it to her rearview mirror, “This’ll let you park in there for free.”_

_She still hasn’t so much as glanced at me, but I can feel the tension in the car is already less than it was just a few minutes ago. Progress. I’m still a bit mad, and so is she, but it’s back to a mutual level of frustration on both our parts. This is something I can deal with._

_“Well… get out”_

_Her words bite a little, but I suppose we’ve bitten each other a lot over the years. When I step out of the car, I turn back and lean in, almost afraid to ask, “So are you…”_

_“I’m going to park the car, Q.”_

_“Okay”_

_When I close the door, she drives off around the corner. A very small part of me is terrified that she’ll just take off. But I know better. We’re mad at each other, we’ve been here before and we always come out of it; maybe a little worse for wear, but always together._

_It’s not until fifteen minutes later that I question how well I know us. She’s still not here. It should have taken 5 minutes to park and walk across to the apartments. My phone chimes and my heart stops. I’m sure it’s Santana telling me she’s gone. But instead it’s Michelle, letting me know she’s out with Bryon and won’t be home until around two._

_I close out the message and my finger hovers over the call button beside Santana’s name. Fuck it. A second later, the front door opens with Santana holding her phone in her hand._

_“Really?”_

_She silences the ringing and I toss my phone on the table._

_“I’m not the one who took off with my ID.”_

_That has got to be the lamest comeback I’ve ever had. Ugh. Someone bury me. Please._

_Santana makes her way into the apartment and drapes her jacket on the back of a kitchen chair, “Where’s Speedy Gonzales?”_

_“Michelle?”_

_“Yeah”_

_“Why do you call her that?”_

_“Because she’s always running around and eating Mexican food.”_

_I can’t argue with the simple logic there. It kind of makes me smile actually._

_“She’s out with Bryon. She’ll be in later.”_

_She sits quietly after that, scanning over the apartment. I make my way over to her, sliding into the chair across the table._

_“Sooo…”_

_For the first time since we left the restaurant, her eyes land on me. There’s a mixture of hurt and resentment in them. It’s not really a combination I’ve seen in them before. The fact that I’m the reason for it stings a little. She’s going to stand her ground. That much I am certain of. We’re being civil right now, but she’s not going to bend. I know I’ve messed up. But she’s here, that means something, right?_

_“I need to go to the bathroom”_

_She pushes up from the table and walks down the hall, out of sight. I inhale deeply, trying to calm my anger. With a long exhale, I stand up and make my way around the table. I can’t stand jackets hanging on chairs. It’s a thing with me. You walk right past a coat rack, hang your coat up. When I pull her jacket off the chair, something solid thumps against my hip when I turn; I don’t really know what compels me, other than I’m pissy and nosy, but I reach into the pocket and as soon as my fingers touch the object, I know exactly what it is._

_I pull the box out; slowly, my arm extends and the jacket falls back over the chair. I hold my breath, glancing over my shoulder at the bathroom door that remains closed. My attention turns back to the velvet box that rests between my fingertips. I hesitate before gripping the lid and opening it. My breath catches when I see the ring._

_She’s really going to do this. This ring is going to go from this box and be slipped on Brittany’s finger._

_It’s beautiful. Of course Santana would pick something as beautiful as this ring. It’s not too big, not too small. It’s not over the top, but it’s clear that it was chosen with purpose. She put thought into this ring. For a fleeting moment I allow myself to imagine that this ring was meant for me. That Santana spent months searching for the perfect diamond, the perfect band. That she hid her savings from me in various ways, always getting this coy smile when I’d ask about why she’d hold back on a splurge that would otherwise be a given. How would she do it? Propose. Would she do something elaborate? Would she make it simple and intimate? What would she say?_

_“A regular Nancy Drew…”_

_I turn, startled by her appearance. I didn’t even hear her walk out. With a deep breath, I set the box down on the table and turn to her._

_“It’s nice”_

_I can feel the anger building up again. It’s not for me. She’s not here for me. I’m mad at myself for even allowing myself that selfish, idiotic moment. How stupid! I’m a fucking idiot. I can’t seem to get these feelings under control. She’s not mine. I’m not hers. We’ve designed this that way._

_The more I stand here, feelings flying through me at a thousand miles a second, I only become more upset. Upset over her being here. Over how much I missed her. About her tone. About being out of control. She stands there, hurt but indignant, unwilling to bend. Neither of us truly prepared for this conversation but too far in to not dive into it. How dare she look so infuriatingly cute while standing in judgement of me._

_Something in me snaps, I can’t take this anymore. Turning, I storm to her. My arms reach out and I shove her backwards._

_“Why did you just fucking blurt it out like that?! What the fuck, Santana!”_

_She stumbles, looking stunned at my approach. But that doesn’t last; she launches back at me and shoves me against the refrigerator, knocking some stray magnets on the floor._

_“You wouldn’t leave it be! You always have to be on top of things Quinn, always have to have things handed to you on your terms. I told you! I told you that I wanted to wait, and you kept fucking pushing! I gave you exactly what you asked for. Do not pull that victim shit on me.”_

_“You’re marrying her!”_

_My voice cracks at the end of my shout, revealing the turmoil going on underneath my anger._

_She stops, a foot in front of me and just stares me down. Her chest is heaving; I can see the vein in her neck pulsing beneath her skin. There’s a flush of red creeping across her cheeks and her eyes are beginning to resemble glass marbles._

_“Yes” she says quietly, “I’m going to marry her.”_

_In all my life I can’t ever remember being this irrational, but here I stand, staring down the girl who could very well be the love of my life and being blindingly furious at her for not choosing me. Even more so infuriating is the fact that I’ve never given her a reason to. I should be mad at myself, and I am, but I have a target, and right now, the shallow person in me is taking aim._

_“Get out” I growl._

_“What? Are you serious? You just spent five minutes convincing me to stay, now you want me to leave?”_

_I lunge forward and shove her again, “Get out! Leave! Now!”_

_She bucks up against me, her face only a breath away from mine. We both have unshead tears clinging to piercing eyes._

_She challenges me, “You want me gone, tell me why.”_

_“Get the fuck out of my apartment Santana.”_

_I whip around and grab her jacket. She rips it from my hand and demands an answer from me._

_There’s a pause, her eyes dart between mine and my mouth and I come undone._

_I reach forward and grab her face in my hands. My lips land on her pursed ones and she pulls away, fighting me. Her rejection only fuels my anger. I rear back to slap her when her hand juts out and grips my wrist. She draws it to my side forcibly and wraps it behind my back, effectively smashing our two bodies together. She backs me into the table and my cup of water from this morning crashes to the ground._

_She leans in and kisses me with a fierceness that I’ve never experienced. I struggle beneath her but only enough to piss her off, not enough to break from her hold._

_I’m aroused. She’s never been like this before. She’s not hurting me, but she is in control at this moment. I bite down on her lip and she pulls away, sucking the swollen lip in her mouth, groaning. I take that as my cue and I break from her hold. Her hand flies up to her mouth, assessing the damage. Pushing off the table, my hands dive into her hair and I fist the dark locks._

_We stare at each other, the tension growing with every second that passes. Neither of us says a word. The sounds of our breathing drown out anything else and we stand, locked in a stalemate._

_“You wanna get rough? Let’s get rough.”_

_My chest heaves between us. I take a breath and ask, “What do you want?”_

_“I want you to fuck me.”_

_Hearing her words, laced with anger and desire, makes my clit throb._

_“You want me to fuck you? Is that what you want Santana?”_

_“Yes”_

_“Say it again”_

_I can feel myself getting wet. Fuck, I need this. I want her._

_“You’re mad, right? You’re angry, right?” She leans in with a snarl, her voice drops, “Fuck. Me.”_

_That’s all I need._

_Yanking backward, her neck becomes exposed and I make quick work of it. She moans under my heated caress. I move, guiding her as best as I can down the hallway. I can’t kiss her deep enough, hard enough. She keeps pushing back, enjoying the fight for the upper hand. I shove her up against the wall just outside my bedroom and pin her there. I thrust a leg between her thighs and lean hard against her. I can feel her heat. She groans deeply when I push against her clit._

_“You’re such a bitch, Santana”_

_I feel her hands fist in my hair and pull. It’s enough to make me give, almost._

_“You’re a selfish cunt, Quinn”_

_I bite down on her earlobe until she gasps._

_“This cunt’s about to fuck you until you feel otherwise. Now shut the fuck up and get in the room.”_

_She snaps her teeth at me, shifting to step into the room and I take her mouth against mine, kissing her into silence. Without breaking the kiss, my palms flatten against her shoulders and I push back, slamming her further into my bedroom wall. The dresser beside us rattles and I catch her surprised scream, stealing it away in a single breath. I don’t know where this this fierceness has come from, but tonight I’m going to own it. I’m mad at all the things that have led to that fucking ring being on my table. I also miss her. Another reason, I’m just fucking horny. But I do acknowledge that there’s an ache, deep in my chest that says this is out of pure desperation. I’m losing her. But if she wants to play this game, goddammit, we’ll fucking play._

_My words have always failed me. Santana can speak circles around anyone and come out with exactly what she wants. But not me. Words have never been my savior, but my actions are. Santana and I have a much deeper connection that extends well past just sex, but when my words fall short, nothing sends her the message that she is mine and I am hers like the way I can strip her bare, physically and emotionally, and make her body tremble._

_“You’re mine” I snap._

_It’s not until the words fall from my lips that I even realize what I said._

_When I pull away, her hands shoot up, ready to take their aim. I match her pace and grab her wrists, pulling them down and pinning them to her sides._

_I lean forward and nip at her earlobe again, “Stand still and be a good girl.”_

_She pushes against my with her chest in defiance, a dark laugh playing on her lips, but I push right back, and again, the dresser rattles, this time a perfume bottle topples over. I take it one step further and sink my teeth into the soft skin on the side of her neck. A quick bite before I suck the skin, earning a guttural groan from the woman pinned against me. I feel her body shake when I release and run my tongue along the reddening mark._

_“Behave”_

_Her only response is a nod of her head and exquisite surrender. There are few things in the world that drive me wilder than the knowledge that she has allowed me to have this power over her. For someone who was putting up quite the fight a moment ago, she’s suddenly very ready to play by the rules._

_I lower to my knees, slowly and deliberately. Our eyes lock, and I watch her watching me with beautiful anticipation._

_This woman is breaking my resolve to just fuck her._

_I carefully release my hold on her hands, she’s been known to trick me once or twice, but when she doesn’t move I know that I’ve got her. I reach down and cup the back of her heels, pulling them off one foot at a time. When she steps down out of the last one, warmth fills my chest seeing her height difference change. With this simple task, she becomes less intimidating. She allows her guard to fall. It’s sexy, yet achingly innocent and beautiful._

_Her hips are squared in my sight. I take a moment to breathe. Suddenly all the anger drains from me, and I just want to hold her._

_My hands grip her hips and I pull her to me in a brief moment of longing. I rest the side of my head against her stomach and wrap my arms the rest of the way around her hips. She runs her hands gently through my hair, a stark difference from moments before. There is a pain in my chest that I’ve always been too afraid to acknowledge. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t walk away. I don’t know what this is or how we got here, but I know that I can’t imagine a life without you in it. I don’t ever want to know what it feels like to not have you._

_I take a deep breath and push the sinking feeling away. That can come later._

_Pushing the hem of her shirt up, my lips find the soft skin on her abdomen. My fingers make work of the button and zipper on her jeans while I leave lazy kisses in spots that make her shudder. She works with me, rocking her hips to allow the denim to fall easily with my help. One foot and then the other, I rid her of the material._

_My fingers make quick work of the small panties she wears. I can smell her. Fuck, I want her on my tongue. Without even a word from me, she hooks her leg over my shoulder and I know in that moment she knows that I want it as badly as she does. I tease only for a moment, running the pad of my thumb through her folds, feeling just how much she wants me. She sighs and glides her hips back and forth, coating my fingers before they even fully touch her._

_My hand pulls away and I suck my fingers clean, a prelude to the sweet desire that waits for me. With a quick adjustment on my knees, I lean forward and take her. The feel of her on my tongue sends shock waves through me. There hasn’t been a time that it doesn’t._

_My mouth covers her and she shudders, whimpering. I trace her folds with the tip of my tongue; stopping to flick her clit, earning a sharp intake of breath. I push against her, sucking, taking that bundle of nerves and pulling ever so slightly. Her body dips and follows like as if it were on a leash. She grips at my shoulders, her nails digging into the material of my shirt._

_“Fuck, baby. Yes”_

_When I release her, she lets out a high pitch and I feel so fucking proud of myself. My hand runs across her, “God, you’re so fucking wet.”_

_“Mmhmm” she hums, thrusting down on my wandering fingers._

_“What do you want, Santana”_

_“I want you to fuck me.”_

_I keep my hand steady, only grazing her, sending her into a fit. With each pass, she moves her hips more frantically, searching for my touch._

_“Tell me how you want to be fucked…”_

_She huffs, reaching down and grabbing my hand. She roughly guides my fingers until she pushes them inside her. We both groan at her assertiveness, the way she feels. I can feel her muscles hold me to her. My fingers begin to massage her, teasing her. Her hand stays on mine, her own fingers often joining my own._

_“I want you to fuck me with your fingers and eat me out with your mouth.”_

_The way she’s talking is sending me into overdrive. I pull her hand away, stopping only to suck on her fingers, and then my mouth finds her again. She’s dripping. I lean further, pulling my fingers out only enough to dip my tongue in their place. Her hands hold the back of my head and she rides my face as I alternate between thrusting my fingers inside her and lapping at her swollen clit._

_She sighs above me, begging me for more. The way my name falls from her lips, is making it difficult for me to focus. I readjust and lower my hand from her hips, my legs part just a bit and my hand slides into my pants. With three fingers buried in her, my tongue teasing her mercilessly, I reach for my own clit and moan against her when I feel the circular touch._

_It isn’t long after I curl my fingers in such a way that she cries out above me, rocking uncontrollably, that I push my own inside me and I begin chasing after the feeling she’s experiencing. Together we moan, her release running down my throat as I drink her in. She slumps over briefly, pushing my head away, begging me this time to stop. She reaches down and stills my arm. On shaky legs, she lowers herself from me and I kneel away. I watch her slide down the wall until she’s on her knees in front of me._

_She leans forward and captures my lips with hers._

_“I love the way I taste on your lips” she mumbles. She pulls away and licks the remains of herself off my chin. She kisses her way down my throat and walks me backward until my back is against the floor. It’s an awkward position with my legs still bent, but the feeling of her above me erases any stretching that I feel. She lets up and reaches for my legs. One, then the other, she pulls them from under me. She leans down and her tongue traces the contours of my hip, sending me over the edge. My clit is screaming for attention. And if she doesn’t show it some soon, I’ll be screaming._

_Her fingers undo my pants and I can feel them sliding down my legs. When I feel them at my ankles, I can’t wait anymore, I reach down and shove my panties down around my knees._

_“Just…” reaching forward, I grab the collar of her shirt and pull her down, shoving her head between my thighs. She smirks, with a small laugh before her fingers gently pull my lips apart, opening me to her. Her tongue dips as far in me as it can go. She hums, swirling her tongue this way and that. My hips rise against her, pleading, “Fuck me. Ughhh yes, just like that. Fuuuuck…”_

_She pulls away, leaving sloppy kisses all along the contours of my pussy. I jut forward when I feel her fingers plunge in me, the sounds of wet sex filling the space. Her tongue flattens out against me and she rolls it so perfectly that it feels like waves against my clit. Faster, she pushes in and pulls out, teasing my g-spot with each twist of her fingers. She’s fucking owning me right now. My hands grasp at the fibers in the carpet, nails raking across the material so much so that I can feel the burn on my fingertips. With each thrust, I feel the same burn from the carpet, but I can’t stop. I’m so close._

_She nuzzles hard against me and the coiling in my core snaps, unraveling with a guttural scream that I bury in my hands. She remains unrelenting, I beg her to stop._

_“I…I…. I need, ugh fuck, I need. Baby, sto- oh fuck, stop, ba-baaby…”_

_It’s not until I grab at her hair and pull her up that the ache in my clit gets a reprieve._

_“I’m not done” she growls, dropping back down and licking me front to back until another orgasm rips through me, leaving my fists banging the floor beneath me._

_When she finally backs away, she leans back on her haunches and smiles down at me as I continue to writhe on the floor. My legs snap shut, and everything throbs with exquisite pleasure. I laugh, although it’s more a breathy, confused moan. My head is a mess, everything is buzzing, and my toes are numb._

_When my body finally stills, she crawls over me and stares down at me. All I want is her kiss. I drunkenly reach up and pull her down. When our lips meet, it’s a euphoric combination of she and I. Her tongue moves at a pace so unlike before. She kisses me deeply, with purpose and passion. This kiss alone is enough to make me come again._

_“Who do you belong to” she asks._

_“You” I sigh, “You”_

_We eventually make it to the bed, aside from a comical moment when I forgot that I still had my pants around my ankles. A few more rounds between the sheets find us moving at a slower pace, the need to be fucked is gone and replaced with the need to be loved. We whisper many different things to one another in the dark; our fingers lace together as our bodies move against one another._

_When we collapse for the last time beside each other, it isn’t long before we both begin to slip in and out of sleep. The events of earlier seem like a distant dream.  It’s just us now. No fighting, no broken hearts. No tears.  In these quiet moments, all that is forgotten. I close my eyes and tell myself to hold on to this feeling._

_I roll on my side and back up against her. She turns and wraps herself around my back, holding me to her. Her nose nuzzles against my neck and she plants lazy kisses down along the back of my neck._

_After a few minutes of silence, she speaks._

_“Tell me I’m making a mistake…” she whispers._

_The way her breath dances across my bare shoulder as she snuggles tightly against me causes goosebumps._

_I swallow hard, knowing my words are going to hurt us both._

_“I can’t do that”_

_I’m thankful that it’s dark and that I’m facing away from her, otherwise she’d see the free falling tears that are staining my pillow case._

_She begs me, a cracking in her voice, “Give me something, Quinn. Anything…”_

_She’s asking me for a reason. She’s asking me to tell her to throw the life she knows out the window. She’s asking for me._

_But I’m too terrified that I’ll let her down, that I’ll hurt her. Santana deserves a life where she can have someone love her with everything. I don’t trust myself to be that person._

_I wipe at my eyes, pretending to yawn, “I’m tired. Let’s just go to sleep. Mmkay?”_

_The hand that she has wrapped around my naked waist loosens and terror rips through me, yet I’m unable to speak, to give her what she’s asking. So when my words fail me, my actions don’t. I lace our fingers together and pull her hold tightly against me. She responds with a feather kiss against my shoulder and settles behind me, never speaking another word._

~*~

A light knocking wakes me. I glance around the room, and the lack of light streaming through the windows tells me that It’s well past when Michelle said she’d be home. The knocking stops and I toss it aside as a figment of my imagination. I bury my face back in the pillow and try and slip back into sleep.

The knocking sounds again, three knocks and then nothing.

“I swear” I groan, lifting up from the couch, “If you fucking forgot your keys again, ‘Chelle…”

When I swing the door open, my stomach drops when I see Santana standing there.

“I’m going to ask you one more time, tell me I’m making a mistake.”

Her eyes are red and puffy, a match for my own. Her hair is pulled up in a sloppy ponytail and her loose button down is only half tucked into her jeans.

I feel my throat constricting and I swallow back the tears that are already forming. Her eyes never leave mine as she gnaws on her bottom lip.

“You’re making a mistake.”

As soon as I say the words, she’s in my arms. Her hold is so tight and I can’t get enough. I paw at her, trying to being her impossibly close. I hear her sniffle against my shoulder and she dips just a bit. I don’t waist anytime leaping and wrapping my legs around her waist. She braces and pauses, gaining her balance.

“I love you” she mumbles against my neck, “I love you”

I answer her in turn, “I love you too. I love you so much. Please don’t marry her. Please…”

She pulls her head back and my lips find hers. The kiss is messy and full of tears, but it’s my new favorite.

“Stay with me” I whisper against her kiss.

“I’m yours”

 

 

**_The End_ **


End file.
